


Red Alert

by orphan_account



Series: MQSTB [4]
Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Cosplay, Drabble, F/M, Outtake, Silly, Star Trek - Freeform, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-19
Updated: 2011-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:18:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very silly tiny outtake for Miror Quaenam Sis Tam Bella written for an LJ drabble meme. Takes place two years after the end of the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Alert

I twisted and turned in front of the full-length mirror on the back of my dorm room door, trying to get a good view of my ass. Just as I was about to break out my cell phone camera and hold it over my shoulder to see if I could catch my reflection in the mirror, my spine flashed hot. A second later, Paul knocked on the doorframe and stuck his head in.  
  
The rest of him followed posthaste. He flipped the deadbolt so fast I didn’t see his hand move.  
  
“Paul…” I said warningly, backing away as he advanced, a predatory gleam in his eye. “I have to wear this later.”  
  
He stopped, confusion taking over from lust. “Why the fuck would you wear a Federation uniform later? It’s not for me?”  
  
I sighed, smoothing down the too-short skirt of the costume so I didn’t have to look him in the eye. “Jessica and her sorority sisters are throwing a Halloween party—“  
  
“Oh, shit.”  
  
“And I told her we’d be there.”  
  
Paul leaned back against the door. “I’m not going.”  
  
I’d expected exactly this reaction, but I pouted anyway. “C’mon, Paul, please. If we come Jessica promised she’ll help with my Human Situation: Modernity take-home test.”  
  
He shook his head.   
  
I turned away from him and started to pull something out from underneath the bed. The instant I bent over I felt his interest return in a major way. “Then I guess you don’t want to play with me.”  
  
When he answered, his voice had gone deep. “Play?” A wave of heat hit my back as he moved to stand closer behind me.  
  
Triumphant, I turned around, brandishing the costume I’d found for him. “Reporting for duty, sir.”  
  
Paul scowled. “There’s no way in hell I’m wearing that.”  
  
I gaped in indignation. “Why not? Do you know how hard it was to find something big enough for you?”  
  
He smirked for a bare second before the scowl returned. “Everyone knows the guys in the red shirts are the first to die.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“If your mom had let you be raised by TV the first seven years of your life like mine did, you would’ve seen enough  _Star Trek_  to know this shit.” He picked up the hanger and turned the costume back and forth, sneering. “Fuck that. I’m no disposable extra. I’ll find a Klingon costume and you can be my sex slave POW.”  
  
I laughed at him, but then couldn’t resist cooing, “Hailing frequencies are open, sir.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. He snorted, but the gleam returned to his eyes as he dropped the costume and slid his hands under the skirt to play with the hem of the bloomers beneath. “Is that a tricorder in your uniform or are you just happy to find me on this deserted planet?”  
  
He hooked my feet from under me with a quick movement of one leg. We collapsed on the bed. I shrieked a little as he growled into my neck, “It’s my phaser. Don’t worry, though, I have it set to ‘stun.’ And don’t bother calling for help.”  
  
I pulled away enough to aim a big-eyed look at him. “But Captain… I… [I'm frightened](http://www.chakoteya.net/StarTrek/67.htm)."


End file.
